The Experiment
by Mouserocks-nerd
Summary: Richard White can't take it anymore. He's going to settle things once and for all with a certain man of steel, and he's got just the way to do it. Two-shot, with an epilogue. Warning: gets darker in second part.
1. The Experiment

**A/N: **Okay, this is going to be a two-shot story. Wanted to do a one-shot, but a friend told me I should cut it off here, and I like it. This chapter is short. Next chapter should be longer. I just wanted to do something I could actually finish for now :) Not to mention, I'm sort of conducting an experiment of my own with this *evil laugh* So read and review! Please tell me what you think is going to happen with Richard- you may influence the outcome.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything remotely related to Superman. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be posting things on here. I would be writing these ideas down and pitching them to people that can actually pay me for this! XD Not to say you guys don't deserve it anyways. . . which is why I'm doing this!

The Experiment

Richard White stood over the counter, only one object marring the otherwise smooth granite surface before him. One thing, standing in his way. It always seemed to be one thing. Whether that thing was Superman, the issue of Jason's parentage, a bullet or Lois Lane- it was always something. Something that held him back, that kept him in place, that kept him from moving forward, that kept him from happiness.

Everything would be different now.

Vicarious living wasn't enough for Richard anymore. He couldn't pretend to be happy for Lois and Clark. Couldn't pretend to be happy for the awards Lois received anymore, for Jason's good grades in school or increasing strength.

It shouldn't have to be this way. It shouldn't have _had _to be enough. He should have had his own life now, his own reasons for happiness. Though, in hindsight, Richard should have seen it all coming. And the fact that Lois hadn't told him Clark was Superman didn't make a difference in his discovering of the fact. Didn't make a difference in the amount of pain and anger he felt over it all.

Experimentation. That's all this was. A very stressful, enormously risky, incredibly high-stakes experiment. An experiment left up to fate and a man who called himself such. Briefly Richard allowed himself to think of the consequences, realize what it was he was laying down on the line.

What would Lois think? And Jason? And his Uncle Perry? What if it worked? And scarier, what if it didn't? Was it worth it all? He shoved such thoughts from his mind, and forced himself to focus. It wasn't that complicated. There were only three things involved, three variables.

Richard, Superman, and a bullet.

*****S*****

**A/N:** Okay. So. Sorry if it's short or confusing. Leave a review and next chapter will be longer-slash-more complete. And feel free to ask about what you think the test/experiment is. :)


	2. The Big Gamble

**A/N:** Yay! This is the end of this story, except I am planning on going back and adding a brief epilogue. Please, please, please review! And just as a brief side note, to Storm Anara: I told you it would be unexpected. =D Again, this is very dark story, in particular with this chapter. Just a warning.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the rights to Superman or his franchise. Sorry. And as an additional warning, please do not take offense to the contents of this chapter, or take any ideas from it. Once again, I must repeat that this is very dark, and I don't want to get in trouble for someone doing something risky. Serious subject matter. Just read it for what it is. And enjoy. :P

* * *

Three simple things. That's all. Three little things and one big gamble.

He checked the chamber of the gun. One bullet, one chance. He clicked it all back into place, taking a moment to breath in deeply once before he went through with this.

"Faster than a speeding bullet, my ass," he muttered as he stumbled slightly over to the window, opening it with excessive force. Then he called out, stepping back as he did so, trying to keep the derision out of his tone with some effort.

"HELP! SUPERMAN! Please! Help!"

Clark's ears stung with the sound. _Richard. Crap._ He knew this was going to be awkward, going to save the ex-fiancee of his now girlfriend- but if he was in trouble, Clark knew what he had to do.

He had no idea exactly how much trouble Richard could be in until he burst through the window of the man's house at full speed.

Clark felt his bright, blue eyes widen in absolute horror as he took in the sight of the man before him. "R-Richard," his tone was cautious as he took a wary step forward. In response Richard White spun the barrel of the revolver and cocked it, causing Clark to freeze.

"Don't come any closer, Clark. I'm not afraid to shoot, and you should know that by now."

Clark gulped, all of the color draining out of his face. So he _did_ know. That would explain a lot of things- and frankly, Clark didn't know how they could have slipped it past him in the first place. He shook himself from his thoughts to return to the ever pressing matter at hand. "Richard, what do you think you're doing? Have you lost your mind? Besides, you of all people should know that bullets don't work on me."

Richard smiled snidely at the superhero. "This bullet isn't meant for you, Superman."

Clark watched in horror as the practically deranged man, smelling faintly of alcohol, lifted the weapon to his forehead, pressing it firmly against his temple, the feeling of terror jolting down Clark's spine at the sight. He felt his throat go dry. "Richard, don't do it. This isn't like you. This isn't what you want. People love you- think about Jason. A-about Perry-"

"I'm done thinking about everyone else, Clark."

"What do you expect to achieve by doing this?" He felt like he was begging now.

At that Richard lowered the gun in the slightest, a smile stealing its way across his features. "Achieve? Oh, Clark. You're way off the mark. I'm not trying to achieve anything. You see, this is a test."

Clark didn't feel his throat could get any more parched. "What?" He croaked.

"You heard me. Mister Faster-than-a-speeding-bullet. You see, I only loaded this gun with one bullet. One shot. The chamber revolves, so I don't know quite where it is, and unfortunately for you, this happens to be lead, so you can't exactly tell me, either. The hope is that you can either stop me or the bullet before it fires- though at a point-blank range, I'm not sure that's truly possible. You move, I fire. Sound good?"

Clark gulped before speaking. "Richard, listen to me. This isn't what you want. Things will get better- Jason's still your son, and always will be-"

"No, he's NOT!" he exploded with outrage, his entire form trembling with the force of his anger. He willed himself to take a deep breath. "Are you in or out, _Superman_?"

"Richard, I'm not going to be roped into playing this. . . this Russian roulette game with you! It's not worth it! Put the gun down, now!"

Richard's finger hovered lightly, brushing against the trigger. Clark's mind raced, thinking of what he could possibly do to keep the man from closing that distance, moving that fraction of an inch. "Richard, if Jason or Lois were here right now would you be doing this?"

Anger flashed through Richard's blue eyes, and without warning, he pulled the trigger.

The sound reverberated through Clark's entire being, that one tiny click that could prompt the end of someone's world. Clark had heard it on many occassions, but rarely ever had he been this affected by the sound- excepting when Lois was involved. He felt frozen, feet leaden, his arm reaching out but otherwise unable to move.

Nothing happened.

Richard smirked. "One."

As he reached up to cock the gun once again, Clark finally found his voice- lost briefly among all the shock. The man had to have lost his mind. "Richard, stop. Please. Before this gets any worse for the both of us. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Oh, poor little Superman. Doesn't want to have the death of his girlfriend's old fiancee on his conscience? Has the perfect little life, the girl, the job, the son- that sounds just terrible when you put it like that. Tell me one thing though, Clark- how many people _do_ you let down on a daily basis? Is a job, a life- is Lois Lane worth destroying so much?"

Clark's eyes flashed with fear. He'd hit upon a sore spot- that was the issue Clark had struggled with the most throughout his whole life. Failure. It haunted him long into the night after he performed his rescues and stayed with him in the day with each new burden, each time he fell short of perfection. And he came to a horrific realization.

Richard was right.

"Yes, think about that long and hard, Clark. That's why you care. Not because of me, but because of what I mean to you. What it would mean if you let me die. It would be a spot on Superman's record- and worse, an atrocity for Clark Kent. How simple it would be for you to walk away right now- except you can't do that, because you'll have to face Jason, the boy who was my son and who loved me as a father for five years. You'd have to face Perry- ignorant of whether you are Superman or not, you'd have to face him every day in the bullpen knowing exactly what you did to his nephew. And you'd have to face Lois. Driven, relentless, pretty little Lois. Knowing when you lie down next to her at night that you walked away from the man she spent five years lying next to and left his fate to chance."

Richard's words were horribly confusing him. Clark was torn between anger and despair, they were so painful. It wasn't what he thought- he saved everyone- but Richard was right that there was an extra level of pressure here now. Richard had him right where he wanted him, dangling in the middle and lost as to what he should do. Before Clark could even retort, Richard had pulled the trigger a second time.

It clicked. "Two." He performed the cocking action again.

"Richard, please. What would I have to do to get you to stop this madness? You've been drinking, and under a lot of stress right now, and-"

"And what? It's all gonna work out?" He scoffed. "Sorry, Clark. I'm not an eternal optimist, like you are. The world's not all lollipops and rainbows, and not all of us are invulnerable."

"I've been where you are now, Richard." Clark suddenly spat. He didn't intend the words to come out so harsh, but he was running out of patience. The pressure of the situation was all catching up to him now, not to mention that the man was deliberately pushing all of his buttons. It would have been trying enough if he were just dealing with a random person in this situation. "I've been on both sides of this equation. And yeah, it sucks. All right? But you can't do this. You know it's wrong."

Richard seemed completely startled by the reaction Clark had given, his grasp on the gun loosening- but not enough. It showed a completely new side to the mild-mannered superhero, one that Richard wasn't sure anyone had ever seen before. He tried to brush it off by shaking his head at the man. "You don't understand."

"You're right, Richard. I don't understand. God damn it, I'm immortal. I can't possibly understand what it's like to commit suicide, or even to try, right?"

For the first time since he'd decided to undertake this task, Richard White felt nervous. This wasn't like Clark. In the various scenarios he had envisioned, he had imagined Clark devastated, immobile, frantic. Angry Clark was completely unexpected.

"If you're going to be mad at someone, if you're going to try to hurt someone, or shoot someone, shoot me. Go on. Take a shot. It won't hurt me, I promise."

Richard looked at the superhero warily. It would feel good to try to hurt him, wouldn't it? To look the man in the eye and pull back on the trigger without a second thought, without reprecussion.

But he also knew what he was risking the second he took the revolver from his temple.

"If I fire once at you, will you promise not to hurt me? Or judge me anyways."

Clark nodded enthusiastically. "Yes."

Before the word was completely out of his mouth, Richard had fired, using the El family crest on his chest for a bullseye. He hit it right in the center.

Or at least, it would have, had the bullet actually been fired from the chamber.

Remembering himself, Richard re-cocked the revolver and raised it closer to his head once more. Clark was still trying to recover from the fact that Richard had just done that, without a second's hesitation. He knew it took a lot of nerve to point, aim and fire a weapon at someone in reality- regardless of the fact that he was invulnerable. That's what distinguished the criminals from each other- most small-time crooks had difficulties in just firing their weapons. It only went to show how far gone Richard White really was. "That makes three," he spoke evenly. "Odds are getting better, wouldn't you say Clark? Well, not for you- but I never said I was here to make your job easier. Thirty-three percent chance that the next bullet will sear through my head."

He seemed about ready to say something, a scowl returning to his countenance, when suddenly Clark's form stiffened, and he cocked his head in a listening fashion. He paled dramatically, all the previous traces of anger gone from his features. "No," he murmured. "No, no, no, no, _no._ Not now."

Richard smiled wanly. "I get it. You have to go be Superman. Classic train on the tracks experiment- do you save the majority of the people and sacrifice one or save one because it may be more important. Your choice," he shrugged, then pulled the trigger once more. Another blank. That made four. Richard was growing impatient, and began feeling more and more reckless. The thrill of pulling the trigger diminshed and subsequently increased after each failed attempt.

Clark was torn. The danger with Richard was imminent now. There were only two more chances- one of which housed a life-threatening bullet. But the fire department did need help with that apartment fire, and people were stuck inside. He opened his mouth, gaping, grasping at straws as to what to do or say. He couldn't use his heat vision- Richard would realize what he was doing long before it would do any good, and pull the trigger. Same with blowing him out of the way. His best chances lay with his speed, and even then, he was risking a hell of a lot just by moving.

"Go, Superman. You're needed elsewhere. My game's almost over anyways."

Clark was onto Richard's game now, and he knew that the man would pull the trigger regardless of what he did. No sense being paralyzed by his fear anymore. In a split-second, he rushed forward, as fast as he could possibly move, aiming to knock the gun out of the man's hands.

The man fired at the same instant.

This was what Richard had meant from the start. This was the test, the experiment. This was what the whole sick game was leading up to. Six shots, one chance.

The fifth time Richard pulled back on the trigger, the bullet was fired.

Clark heard it. Not just the click as the triggering mechanism snapped and released the tension, but the hammer pounding against it, the propulsion of the leaden object as it coursed through the housing of the revolver. The intake of breath from Richard at the realization that this was it.

Clark saw the fear in Richard's eyes as that very realization struck him. The click that registered in his blue eyes with a terrifying jolt- and what was more terrifying to Clark, the almost tranquil look that occupied the crazed man's features.

Clark tasted the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the fear that he wouldn't be fast enough, the guilt over leaving the firemen to fight on the apartment fire on their own for another moment.

And he felt it when the bullet collided with his own, dense frame.

Clark knocked the offending weapon from Richard's hands, Superman's form colliding with his, and a wave of relief washed over him. He had done it. He had somehow managed to deflect the bullet on its path to the opposite side of Richard's skull, swatting it down and away. His heart leapt to his throat. He had done it. He had done it.

Then Clark smelled the fresh, slightly metallic odor of blood.

He quickly disentangled himself from Richard and immediately saw the problem. While he had deflected the bullet from searing into Richard's head, he hadn't stopped it's path entirely, but rather only altered its trajectory. The bullet had embedded itself into the man's lower abdomin on his left- and he was struggling to keep the pain from his features, Clark could tell.

There were more cries for help coming from the burning building. Clark groaned internally to himself.

"Clark," Richard's voice sounded haunted and weak. He refocused his attention to the man. "What have I done?"

Clark refrained from sighing, but the worry was still eating away inside of him. He couldn't believe that had happened, that he'd done that, even inadvertantly. . . "I'm so sorry. It'll be alright, Richard, I swear." He sincerely hoped it would be. "Come on, I'll take you to a hospital."

He hefted the man up and over his shoulders carefully, and flew out the window.

*****S*****

**A/N:** Yay! Or rather, not yay. . . Either way, tell me what you think! I apologize once more for the dark subject matter, but once the idea came to me, I couldn't shake it. Epilogue will come soon, but otherwise this story's just about complete. I'd be happy to answer any questions about this, too. Despite how weird this might sound, this story was actually kind of fun to write. . . *shrugs*

Please Review!


	3. Epilogue: Coming to Terms

**A/N:** Okay. So this is the end. It turned out to be less of an epilogue and more of a final chapter, but oh well. I couldn't let sleeping dogs lie, as usual, and hence I had to extend this to include a little bit of Lois and Perry. *shrugs* I like it anyways. Hope you feel the same.

Oh, and also, as regards to the experiment I performed with this story (yes, I performed an experiment without your knowledge, aren't I clever?) . . . just to let you know, you all failed. XD Kidding. If you have any idea of what it was (and once you know, it will be fairly obvious and you will probably facepalm over its simplicity), leave it as a comment in a review or pm me. . . I will tell you if you are correct. Here's a hint: it's not in this section. :D

**Disclaimer:** Once again, I don't own anything. Geesh. You'd think some people would take a hint by now.

*****_Epilogue_*****

Clark sat in a chair, staring at the weapon in his hands with a haunted look on his face. The police had already been by and questioned him- Superman him, that is- and had decided that this had been a pretty much open-and-shut case. Richard White tries to commit suicide, Superman tries to help him, and unintentionally wounds him. The fact that the gun was lead-lined had not failed to escape Clark- signifying that Richard had intended to go through with this from the beginning.

Clark idly pulled back the trigger, forcing himself to hear the clicking sound over again. He closed his eyes a moment. He didn't think think he would ever forget that noise, and whenever he heard it again, he was almost positive he would connect it to the events of last night. He forced himself to come to terms with the worst part of it all.

He had failed.

He failed Richard, failed Lois and Perry and Jason. Failed himself. He had froze. Choked. Superman didn't do that. He couldn't afford to do that, to make any mistakes. Not when lives depended on him. It was too risky. And he had almost completely blew it right when it mattered most. He couldn't even bring himself to imagine the looks he would receive once they all knew it was his fault, that he had almost killed Richard White. Almost let him kill himself.

Clark shook his head. He wondered briefly if he should have told the police that he, Clark Kent, was the one who was there with Richard, Superman flying in at the last second to save the day- but he turned that idea down almost as quickly as it had surfaced. He didn't know what Richard would or would not say about the matter, and it was safest to say it was just him and Superman, the whole way through. And secondly, he didn't want it to look like Superman had just screwed up majorly. There was so much more to it than that.

He heard footsteps approach from behind him- light, but quick, heels tapping across the wood floors of Richard's apartment. It should have made him smile, as it usually did, but all he could manage was a grimace when Lois Lane put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

There was a long pause between them, Clark still just staring at the revolver. Finally, Lois spoke- right when Clark was about ready to do the same.

"Are you alright? What happened here-"

"I can't believe that just happened-"

They shared a glance and Lois gave him a sad, brief smile, before gesturing for him to continue his own train of thought. "It's all my fault."

Lois seemed shocked. She hadn't been able to get that many details about the situation out of anybody- Richard was still in surgery, Perry didn't know much, the police were brushing her off, and Clark hadn't been seen for the entire day. She went to Richard's apartment that evening after work, hoping to find him. She was lucky. But that admission startled her still. "How?"

"It's my fault, everything's my fault. It's my fault Richard's in the hospital. It's my fault for not catching the bullet, just swatting at it. It's my fault for driving him to this point, for not being able to stop him before he did it. My fault for coming back, for ever leaving- for ever even allowing myself to think I could have or deserved a normal life in any way, shape or form."

Lois kneeled down to his level and cupped his face, trying to engage his downcast blue eyes. "Clark, listen to me- no matter what happened last night, you know none of that's true. We're all responsible for making our own choices- Richard's made his, you've made yours. Now what happened?"

Clark could feel the emotion behind her words, and when he looked into her hazel eyes, he could see that she truly believed them. He looked down once more before finding his voice.

"Richard attempted suicide." He heard her sharp breath at the words and he paused before continuing. "Somehow he got the idea to rope me into it. Called for help from Superman. He had this revolver, which he somehow got to be lined with lead, and one bullet. Did it Russian roulette style. One bullet, spun the chamber, and kept firing until he reached the bullet. I kept trying to talk some sense into him- he had me practically paralyzed, I was so scared, Lois. His insane rules and ultimatums- I couldn't do anything except talk without him pulling the trigger. He kept pulling it, Lois. He just kept on going and going and nothing I said to him was helping, and his own words weren't making sense and he just kept holding everything over my head. . ."

Lois wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace, a single tear leaking from her eyes. Clark closed his own eyes against the sting of it, and buried his face into her shoulder. He tried his best to keep his form from shaking, but with little success.

Finally Lois was able to speak. "How long. . . many tries did it take?"

"Five," he sighed into her hair quietly. "The fifth time the bullet fired. I blocked it from his head, but instead I redirected it accidentally into his side."

Lois brushed her tears away as Clark finally calmed himself down. She knew how scary it was just to think about it all- she couldn't imagine how scary it must have been for Clark to be standing there, helpless. She gave his hand a tight squeeze. "C'mon. Let's head over to the hospital."

*****S*****

Richard blinked at the early morning sunlight that poured in through the hospital window, trying to recollect exactly the events that led him there.

It was all a blur to Richard. Clark had to stop off at the apartment complex, setting Richard down on a stretcher from a nearby ambulence before bursting through the building at top speeds, grabbing people left and right, carefully getting them outside. He flew above the structure, examining it to make sure no one was left inside, before helping to extinguish it. As soon as Clark- Superman- was done with that rescue, he demanded that he be allowed to transport Richard to the hospital directly, and followed his words with deed.

Before he knew quite what was happening, Richard was in a hospital bed, having just had undergone a surgery to remove the bullet and stitch him up.

The memories of what he had just done or tried to do the other night resurfaced in Richard's mind. The revolver, the taunting, Superman's desperation as he tried to save him from himself. But among all of those thoughts, one thing stood out in Richard's mind.

He had failed.

Something about the weight of it all had yet to strike him, whether due to the fact that he had just awoken or the fact that he was likely on too much medication to care. Probably the latter, but who was to say. Regardless of that, some part of him recognized that he had failed. Failed to die, failed to wound Clark- emotionally speaking, anyways- and failed to prove his point.

At that moment, the doctor walked in again, preventing Richard from travelling further down that path of dark thoughts.

"All right, we're awake. How are you doing?"

Richard shifted his position, drawing a sharp intake of breath as he did so. "Not sure. Better, I think. How bad was I?"

"The wound itself wasn't all that terrible. No major damage done. You're a lucky man though, Mr. White. To be friends with Superman. He brought you here as quickly as possible and asked that we do our best to take care of you."

Anger flashed through Richard's eyes, and the doctor raised a questioning eyebrow. "He's not my friend," he half-whispered.

"I'm sorry?"

Just then, there was a knock at the open door to Richard's hospital room. Doctor and patient looked up to see three figures.

"Is it all right if we come in now and talk to him? The nurse said it'd be fine," Lois spoke, not removing her eyes from Richard.

"No, no, it's perfectly fine. Just finishing up a routine check-in. You can come in."

She gave the doctor a gracious smile and stepped over the threshold, Perry White following behind her. Richard's eyes didn't follow either of them, however, but instead remained firmly fixated upon the lone figure standing in the doorway.

Lois came over to Richard's bedside and took his left hand. "Richard," she began quietly, a sad look on her face. He drew his hand away from her.

"What is _he_ doing here?" he spoke, tone eerily even.

"Uh, R-Richard?" Clark stuttered, taking one step into the doorframe, his eyes guarded as he glanced towards his editor-in-chief. He always knew he'd probably end up telling Perry White everything one day. But of all days, Clark didn't want it to be today.

"Um, doc, if you're almost done here, would you mind giving us a little space?" Lois asked sweetly. He glanced between the two men and nodded, curious, but knew when it was the right time to step out. He nodded and allowed Clark to step into the room before scooting his way out of it and closing the door behind him.

Clark opened his mouth as if to speak, but had no words. Richard beat him to the punch.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming in here, _Clark_."

"Richard, please. Let's not get into this here."

"Why? You concerned about my uncle, here? About what he might do to you?"

"What the hell are you talking about? Son, are you sure you're alright yet?" Perry joined in this conversation, as confused as ever.

Lois was the one who took charge of the situation, as always. "Hey! Can we just ignore the issue that's going on between you two for the moment? We're here for you, Richard, because we're all concerned for you. Can't you put it aside just until we know you're alright?"

Clark looked at the injured man with such a look of pain and apology in his eyes that Richard had to look away, squaring his jaw firmly in order to hold on to his anger. Richard would not be tamed. He refused to be.

"How you doing, son?"

"I've been better."

Lois glanced surreptitiously at Clark. "Superman told me what happened."

Richard returned his cold hard gaze to Clark once more. "Did he now?" he sneered. "And what _did_ he say happened? Did he say I had it coming? That he should have just walked away before any of this happened? That I wasn't worth rescuing?"

Clark knew he was deliberately pushing his buttons, trying to provoke him into reacting. Perry was looking between the two men with an expression of confusion, Lois staring down at Richard with a look of mild disapproval. He knew he was being provoked.

But that last sentence made him snap.

"Richard," he spoke through gritted teeth. "If Superman thought you weren't worth rescuing, he wouldn't have done it. But he did. And you're still here. If you didn't have Superman with you last night, you wouldn't be breathing right now."

Perry raised his hand to intervene, shocked by the amount of force in Clark's voice. "I'm sorry, but I, for one, don't know what happened to you. Now Richard, start explaining. How did this happen?"

Suddenly Richard seemed to remember himself, and he turned guilty eyes up to his Uncle's face, feeling the tears spring up there. "I'm sorry, Uncle Perry," he whispered.

"Sorry for what?"

He bit his lip, and turned to glance at Clark. "I shot. . . I mean, I tried. . ."

Clark spoke up. "It was my fault, sir."

All three sets of eyes snapped up to face him. "What?" Perry's tone was insistent, demanding.

"Clark. . ." Lois warned.

He ignored them all, and managed to keep his gaze steadily on Richard's surprised features as he spoke. "Lois, I always figured the truth would come out with Perry somehow."

"What truth? Kent, what the hell is going on here?"

Clark sighed and slumped into a chair, still on the opposite side of the room. "I was with Richard that night. I know what happened, and it was my fault."

Perry just blinked. "What?"

Richard spoke up finally. "Clark, no. You're making it sound like you shot me or something."

"Well, I couldn't exactly stop you."

"Yes, you did," Richard's voice was stern and fierce there, still seeming bitter about the situation. He hadn't meant to live after this, hadn't intended to be rescued. He should have thought it through better- calling for Superman just to taunt him wasn't worth the effort it took. And in the end, everything had fallen through. The best laid plans of mice and men, and all that.

There was a long pause that settled upon them, all thinking about Richard's reaction. His tone had colored those three words with loads of meaning- none of which were happy thoughts. He sighed and closed his eyes- he was really just tired now, and the emotional strain was catching up to him. His medicine must have been kicking in. "Look, Clark, or whatever your name is. I hated you before. You ruined my life. Then you had to go and ruin my death, too. Just. . . leave me alone," he mumbled the last part as the medicine began to do its job and he shifted in the bed to get a little more comfortable.

Perry had grown white as the realization began to sink in with him, and he took a chair near Richard's bedside. "Richard," he murmured as his nephew fell asleep. He never thought he would have to worry about this with Richard. Yeah, things had been extremely difficult on him of late, but suicide? Perry swore he'd never see the day.

The silence engulfed the room as Richard fell into a deep slumber, a troubled look occupying his features. Finally, Perry had the courage to speak. "Clark. . . why didn't you tell me you were there? Why didn't you tell me what happened? What _did_ happen exactly?"

Before Clark could speak, Lois jumped in. "Chief," she began nervously, "You know we trust you right? And that we believe you would never betray that trust for anyone, or anything? Not revenge, personal gain, or even a Pulitzer winning story- which you would get if you knew this. But that's why you didn't know it, because it is really that important that it stays a secret- again, not to say we don't trust you, but-"

"Lois, honey, calm down. Now what is it that's so important?" Perry glanced between the two reporters. "What, that you didn't tell me Clark was there? I don't see how that's newsworthy."

Clark shifted on his feet. "Yes and no," he began in the cryptic manner he usually reserved for Superman, the timbre of his voice shifting a little deeper as well. "For the record, Mr. White I didn't tell anybody I was there. Not even the doctors or the police. Only Richard and Lois- and now you- know."

Perry frowned. "Shouldn't that be something the police know about? I mean, scene of the crime and all. . . what if they found out later that you were there?"

"Technically speaking, um, Mr. White, I- Clark Kent- wasn't there."

"The hell you weren't. What were you doing there?"

Clark changed tactics. "Richard called for my help, and I came. I had no idea what kind of games he had in mind."

Perry looked at the mild-mannered reporter incredulously. "Why on earth would he call you? No offence, but he hates you. Obviously. What would be the point of that if he was trying to kill himself? And considering he had a gun, why would you go over there- why would you go within ten feet of him if he wishes you were dead?"

"The bullets don't scare me, Perry. What was scarier was that I couldn't save him. It took five bullets for the one to fire, and even then I was barely in time to brush it away. And then it just riccocheted. And now here he is."

There was a pause. Perry blinked again. "What?"

Clark opened his mouth to speak, but in that instant heard a cry for help. _Really, Metropolis?_ He gave Perry a slight, sad smile. "I gotta go. Lois, will you make sure that if the doctor asks that-"

"-You forgot you had to go. . . watch your neighbor's dog while they went out of town for the weekend. Sound good?"

He smirked at her. "Better than what I would have come up with," he muttered as he planted a light kiss on her lips. "Cameras?"

"Nope." She smiled at him.

"Right. See you later, Perry."

"What? What do you mean? Where are you going?" The man's confusion was evident at Clark's words and actions.

Clark removed the glasses from his face and pushed back his hair, giving Perry an expectant glance before spinning in place at speeds faster than the eye could see. When he was done spinning, Clark Kent was standing there wearing blue tights and a red speedo, looking rather heroic. Then he flew out the window in a burst of speed.

"Oh," was all Perry could respond.

When Lois turned to look at Perry White, his expression was one of such bewilderment that she couldn't help but laugh.

*****The End*****

**A/N: **I know, it's a depressing kind of story. At least I took mercy and left it on a happy note! Sort of. Maybe. Anyways, leave your review! And I'm being totally serious about the experiment I did through the use of this story. Why do you think it's called "The Experiment" ? I came up with this idea long before I actually made the story to go with it. Tell me what it is and you will get brownie points. :)


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